Oxalá
by SonataForMyOverdosedLover
Summary: There was a time when things seemed right... it was supposed to last... the Carnival should have lasted a little longer; maybe forever.
1. oxala

a.n.: This is a two chapter work that comes hand in hand with the original story "Heroes and Thieves". It's from a different perspective, bringing some light over the past that linked Federico and Shiva. It still doesn't clarify much, but the images have been playing in my head for quite some time. To explain myself, before going on, Shiva and Federico were the ones 'meant to be'… the ones that didn't need words or acknowledge to happen.

This is why it is hard for me to decide if 'Heroes and Thieves' is indeed a romantic story. What I can assure you is that is in the least a story of acceptance.

Regardless, here is the firs and terrible short prologue….

* * *

The rancid smell of putrid wood, the hot feeling in his throat, the deafening noise in his ears….

It was the painting of the end. Too soon, too sudden, too.. unfair… there wasn't much he was leaving behind. Most of what he was holding dear was being ripped apart right near him.

The end should have never come this soon. He should have fought for his life instead of waiting for others to do things right. Things weren't getting right. The world wasn't a fair place and he knew it for a long time now. He simply had hope. Now that he looked back, it even wasn't him the one believing in 'hope'.

Somewhere, as if it was happening miles away from him, he heard his father's cry for justice. He knew it now: it had always been the hope that his father had taught him to keep. He never hoped. He never had faith in something. And now, just because he had chosen not to follow his believes, he had reached the end. His end. Maybe it was better this way. Right there, with his hands barbarically tied behind him and with the rope around his neck Federico realized something: if he was to live on he wasn't to be the man his father had wished him to. His father had been his mentor but life… life had sculpted him unpardonably: he didn't believe in morality, in justice. Those were weapons of the weak or of those with enough power not to fear the threats of people under the sign of greed and malignity. If life was to give him a second chance he might as well have turned out to be a disappointment to his father: a rightful but faithless man.

It had rained a night before. The scent of wet dirt mixed with old blood spilled under other executions was getting past his lips that carried on taking the air to his lungs when his sense of smell refused to do so. Who was he trying to lie to? He was frightened. He wasn't ready; he wasn't ready to leave his life behind. It was unfair. As if it was the hardest thing he barely managed to glance at his father and his terrified young brother. In anguish he watched the tears flowing down the boy's confused face. Little Petruccio was too young to realize the fatality of death, but that wasn't making it easier if not, the turmoil was damaging his _fratellino. _Back in their cell Giovanni had told the boy not to worry because everything was going to be alright; because everything was going to end soon. Federico lowered his head back. Yes, everything was going to end now; but _noting _was going to be alright. His father had asked him not to tell his brother the other way around and he had obeyed. But Petruccio deserved to know the truth: that everything was wrong; that they didn't deserve any of this; that they were supposed to have a life ahead of them. Oh, dear god, Petruccio was so young…. The things that were taken from him…

The things that he was leaving behind… things he wouldn't be able to finis, promises he couldn't keep, a kind of life he wouldn't come to know. Yes, at the end of his rope he had a handful of regrets. He regretted that he hadn't been telling his mother day after day how much he admired and respected her; he regretted that he had limited himself to his father's expectations and had spent life enjoying it too much, he regretted that he couldn't say a proper goodbye to his _little_ brother, tell him '_sorry' _for leaving him alone with such a grievous burden on his shoulders, for never teaching him not to be afraid of the world he was about to discover and scar his life. The sun blinded him for a moment, reflected in the amour of the guard engraved with their deaths on his hands. There was something else; another kind of rue …and someone else's life was at the other end of it. At long last he couldn't keep his word. He raised his head and narrowed his eyes to look over the roofs in the distance that he would still perceive. He managed to kill the heaviness of freedom the endless sky was pushing onto him, with the guilt of knowing that somewhere, outside the walls of this piteous _Firenze, _there was someone he was about to let down. There were so many things he was regretting about it. But what he hated the most was that he had worked so hard to seed hope that he was now going to grotesquely murder without even giving the chance of freeing their fates and spare the heart of the malformations his disappearance was to cause. But now there was no changing that.

He flung his left arm until the skin of his wrists burned under the tight rope. He breathed heavily before straightening his back. The inside pocket of the doublet was empty. It wasn't there. His eyelids closed heavily and he could picture the green glimmering jewel in front of the mirror. He had left it in his room. Pity. It wasn't about being romantic… it was about feeling some sort of comfort; about having something to hold onto until the last breath.

Were his eyes closed? He couldn't figure… but there was an unbroken darkness surrounding him. The noises, the voices grew stronger and in the flurry of pitches the laughs isolated until they became the single noise to reach his ears. Fires were getting closer and closer until he vividly felt them exploding over his head… fireworks… fireworks conquered the sky and colorful drops danced down into his darkness. A rhythmic song started to echo faintly into his ears. An explosion of fire suddenly brought to life everything around him. The jester bowed for his applause and the streets rejoiced under the spell of the Mardi Gras. The Florentine Tarantella danced him back into the veils of memories.

.


	2. shattered

**a.n.: **Oxalá is a word in Portuguese and it means 'to hope'. The title of the story is after the song with the same name by Madredeus. If interested give it a search on youtube. Both the lyrics and the sound of the song are fit for the moment I guess..it's like a memory that triggers a feeling, a smell, a taste..or a sound.

This is the last chapter of this AC side story. What you must know from the beginning is that this chapter is rated M because of the sexual content. It gave me quite a hard time because I like to make a difference between erotic literature and simple pornography. As a writer I have little tolerance to graphic sexual scenes written in a simple and vulgar terminology.

I am not entirely satisfied with the outcome of this chapter, at least with the first part. Regardless, I will appreciate immensely any sort of feedback or critics (or any possible question left unanswered after the reading ;)) )

Cheers!

* * *

Federico laughed as he skipped away through the sea of people in the _piazza_. He tried to get as far away as he could from the young girl and was deeply regretting not taking the mask that his mother had offered him when he left home. It had been the second time during the evening when a lady had stopped him to ask about his little brother. Chucking to himself Federico had to give credits to that trouble maker he had as a brother. He was a fast learner and his skills were natural – especially when it came to women. He was more impressed knowing how awfully his first contacts with the other sex had gone.

The young man promenaded without a purpose through the well dressed people of the Florentine Mardi Gras. Laughing, clapping and dancing, witnessing tricks and admiring the plays of jesters and puppeteers… Federico was part of them, he was enjoying the events of the evening like any other participant and citizen of Florence without the worry of the day to come. It was night, people were celebrating… it was the time of the carnival.

The fireworks lightened the sky above him. He smiled and looked up into the dark azure at the chromatic rain falling down to the ground.

Colours and people were dancing and spinning all around him, hued in the darkness of the night. The houses were adorned with paper lanterns, flags and festoons, looping over the streets below. He loved carnivals. He loved walking alone through the festival. It was something about the mystic atmosphere where the vigour of people was infecting the lethargy of the nights, the echoes carried by the silence, the dark fairytale that was coming to life. Whilst looking up his eyes were still registering the faces of the people waltzing around him. Smiles, laughs, whispers, masks… a rich palette of feelings exploding in the city.

He closed his eyes for a moment, opened them, and closed them again, taking a long drag of the intoxicating perfume of the carnival.

With his eyes closed, a lone figure from the sea of people, painted itself back on his retina. Al the other people danced away, leaving the standing silhouette of deep green, the long and rich dress and the heavy velvet cape, standing there, watching him from under the elegant hood. It was the light ashed tresses falling from under the hood that made his stop. His heart skipped and his eyes snapped open. The young man chaotically turned to the place that his eyes had registered the figure but all he saw were people dancing. He spun around again and again, searching for the image he was sure that he hadn't come up with.

Unconsciously he brought his hand up to his brocaded tunic and caressed there the piece of jewelry pinned to his chest.

Once again he brought his eyes up, through the now faceless people passing him. He furrowed. Now everything around him was a glowing mass of blue, moving like the waves of the sea. And then, though those tide of white a glimmer of gold reached his eyes. It stood there, disappearing and reappearing through the agitated white sea.

He made a single step; so small that he didn't even feel it. But in that instant, with that single step the golden figure turned and run away as a ghost of green veils.

Federico blinked and he knew that by now his heart was beating like mad. He ran through the dancing _Fiorentini _and couldn't stop his smiles. He chased the green phantasm in the crowded _piazza. _He huffed at the people that were getting in his way and were blocking the hooded figure out of his sight; but nevertheless he was overwhelmed by a feeling of jubilance as he was slipping closer to his target. When he thought he was to catch it, masks walled him and when they were gone it was already too late. He stepped, and stepped in circles, with faces coming and going away from his eyesight. Women and men danced around as if mocking him, challenging him to make a choice. He stepped backwards through the twirling figures, and there in that play of dancing puppets, in that theater of the carnival, soft fingers caressed the back of his hand, playing down, slipping through his fingers, finding shelter into the warmth of his palm.

He spun with trembling anxiety to admire what he knew from the second her hand voluntary stretched after his that was his and his alone. The figure, still watching down at their hands, had her head covered by the hood of the elegant cape; what was entirely his.

"You're here..." he wished to repeat his words. What if his whispers had been just in his head?

His free hand went up under her chin and traveled up her cheek, through the hair, pushing the hood down to reveal what he was desiring for. The piercing citrine eyes looked up at him from the pale ochre of her young features. The waves of her tresses were adorning her forehead and falling down past one of her shoulders.

He had the feeling of ownership, but no matter how powerful it was it was numbed by the spell that she had over him. Standing in front of him, dressed in a beautiful green gown, she was his. Months had passed since he had seen her, wearing a pair of trousers and a black shirt, protected by her cape, running along the walls of Castel Nuovo in Naples. And now, she was so lovely, watching him, holding his hand. He felt like turning around and yell to those average people that she had come here for him; that he was the one to whom she was smiling; that she was his. They should know; everyone should know!

Her smile wasn't a mistake; it was there, as a sign of her own happiness and excitement. The young woman stepped closer and lingered her lips in front of his. Her smile got bigger and when she stepped away he felt her hand retracting from his chest and the other one slipping out of his. She stepped backwards and at a distance enough for him to see her she brought her hands to her own chest, and on the golden hem of her gown she attached the brooch that once was worn by him. Her smile grew into a light laughter and she had only time to turn around before he caught her velvet cape. But the cape unfastened and there was no way of stopping her from running through the people.

Federico watched her and then the heavy cape in his hands. He looked up once again, and in a less crowded place in the_ piazza_, under a yellow paper lamp she spun, with the heavy skirt of the gown in her hands before laughing his way and stepping backwards, until fire-eaters threw a red curtain between them.

"Federico! Federico Auditore? Is that you?"

A young girl appeared next to him. "Oh, yes, it is you…. Ezio promised to meet me by the cathedral but he didn't show up. Did anything happen?"

The young man blinked his attention to the girl, but he wasn't sure that anything besides his brother's name reached his mind. He stared at the confused girl, facing now his silence. And she had to step back when the man burst into a sudden fit of laughter before he delivered a kiss on her forehead and ran away.

Had the Auditore elder son gone mad?

He ran through the crowd in search for the girl. He run past friends of his, past Sassetti and didn't bother to stop to apologize when he passed right through members of the Medici family. He skipped through the _piazza _and sprinted up the stone stairs towards the bridge over the _canal. _

His eyes were searching everywhere, thinking of places where she might be hiding.

He looked down along the street to his right and in the sea of people he spotted his family. His sister was pouting and scowling at her mother for not being allowed to go with her friends while the young Petruccio was pulling Giovanni's hand to walk him to the puppet show.

Federico grinned and stopped pinning his hands on stone railing.

"Father! She's here!"

Claudia's head snapped at him and she instantly made her way to him. The man looked at his son and shared his smile, reading the rest of the sentence in the boy's eyes.

"Shiva is here!"

The enthusiasm and eagerness in his voice sent Giovanni in a powerful but warm fit of laughter.

"How is she?" He yelled back, thankfully that Petruccio has ceased the pulling.

Federico opened his mouth but stopped. If possible his face gave away even more excitement, new sparkles in his eyes.

He nodded as if he was sure on his words.

"She's beautiful." The grin grew on his lips.

"Who's beautiful? Is she you secret girlfriend? Is Shiva her name?"

Federico looked down at her sister, two heads taller than her now the he was standing on the upper passage street. He smiled at her chocolate eyes and instead of answering he swung the cape and secured it around her shoulders.

The young girl, at fist surprised caressed the green velvet.

"Here; this is a gift from her."

Claudia looked up at her brother.

"For me?" He nodded happily.

She looked down at the material falling to the ground.

"But it's too big for me…"

The boy grinned and straightening back he started to step backwards.

"Wait until you grow up."

With that he looked over her shoulder at his family to salute them.

Giovanni watched his son running backwards.

"You should bring her home for you mother to meet her!"

The boy, laughed and while turning away he shouted back.

"I'll be lucky if I get her to stay still."

Federico heard the fading laughs of his father as he made his way to the bridge. Once he reached the other side the streets were quieter. He narrowed his eyes and grinning; ahead, at the end of the staircase Shiva was waiting for him. He took a confident step towards her but in the same time she stepped backwards.

He frowned; the girl grinned. He took another step, so did she. He stopped and without waiting for any other reaction he jumped out of her sight into the street to his right and ran up the next one. He continued to run and by the echoes of her shoes so was she. Federico emerged from the street right ahead of her, blocking her way and almost making her crush into his chest. When she abruptly stopped, avoiding the impact he was slightly disappointed but nevertheless he grabbed her and pulled her, spinning around at the mouth of a narrow passage. He pinned her to the inside wall, hiding both of their bodies in perfect darkness. The warmth of her breath tickled his neck and he lowered his head, caressing her ear with his nose and breathing heavily on her cheek.

"Got you!"

She laughed under him, her chest trembling against him.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

He looked down into her scintillant eyes and trying to compose himself he grinned deviously before letting a thoughtfully voice escape his throat.

"My father did tell me to bring you home to my family."

He grinned when for a second her smile was replaced by a short pout and amusement left the features of her face.

She slipped under his arm and stepped further into the passage.

Federico tried hard not to laugh. Of course he wasn't serious about that. It had been months since he had last seen her and before she'll disappear yet again he had other plans in mind; he wasn't going lose his chance of spending time alone with her just to present her to the inquiring eyes of his family.

"What's with that face?"

At that she turned to him, hands clasped behind her and slightly bent ahead she started to walk backwards. He grinned at the innocent voice she was trying to make. Her disappointment didn't make her expectations very subtle.

"I came all the way to _Firenze_, put on this pretty dress and all you can think of is to introduce me to your mother?"

He chuckled to hide his real amusement.

"Do you have something else in mind?"

The girl stopped, straightened and smiled mischievously.

"Do you?"

Her voiced purred its way to his ears and Federico stepped next to her.

But he didn't answer because she grabbed him by the hand and started to pull him down the passage.

"Where are we going?"

She stopped and spun, looking into his eyes.

"I don't know; where are we going?"

His mind ran through possible answers he could offer until his eyes pierced through the darkness over her shoulder; the perfect place materialized in his head; and she had read right through his intention because the large smile adorned her lips again. She tightened the grip of her hand and started to run, pulling him after her.

Her laughter echoed through the narrow passage. Federico smiled, taking every detail into the depth of his soul: the waves of her hair dancing over her shoulder, the sounds of her rapid steps on the pavement, the dance of her green dress and the warmth of her hand.

They emerged from the alley into a more illuminated street and Shiva let go of his hand to step ahead in freedom and to make a pirouette; her laughter never ceased.

Federico caught movement to his right and a grin made his way to his face at the sight of his younger brother, of course in the company of a signorina.

"_Fratellino_! You left some charming ladies looking for you at the _carnavale_!" He wished he could go on and see Ezio's reaction but the pair of gentle hands slipped to his arms and Shiva started to pull once again, uninterested in any other presences.

He looked back at her to read the excitement and happiness in her eyes. Federico laughed and barely waving to Ezio he let himself pulled away.

The two ran down the streets of Florence, through quiet places and cheerful crowds. Federico smiled and pushed forward right through a circle of noblemen, losing Shiva's hand to split between the people. Grumpy voices and revolted exclamations filled the air as the two burst into laughs when they found each other on the other side. Federico looked at her. The young woman turned around and brought her hand up, between them, revealing a bracelet made of golden rosebuds. They stared at it for a moment one out of confusion the other in discovery and another row of laughs left their throats.

Federico grabbed her wrist and leaded her around the town.

They finally reached _Piazza del Duomo_ and circled the Basilica.

"What are we doing here?"

He smiled instead and pushed her forward, in front of _Giotto's Campanile. _He put one of his hands on her shoulder and with the other one he lifted her chin nodding at the top of the tower. Shiva looked up in clear confusion.

"We're going up there."

He felt her froze and laughed.

"No, we're not!"

He knew that as fierce and daring she was Shiva possessed a great fear of highs. He knew that from the first time they had met, years ago. His father literally introduced her to him in the middle of a deadly chase against the guards of Milan. She happened to be stealing from his father's target on the right place and at the right hour. He still remembered her trembling legs at the edge of the roof, in perfect contrast with her thundering refusal to jump. He remembered how he had suddenly stopped asking and with a sheepish grin thrown his arms around her androgynous body before taking her down with him in a leap of faith.

To the reminiscences of that night he grinned again and cupping her face with both his hands he pressed her checks ahead, lips puckered.

"Scaredy-cat."

She instantly slapped his hands away; being the prideful person that he knew she was she never liked to be made fun of. She would scow; she would pout or frown like a brat and he loved her for that. It gave him immense pleasure to rile her or tease her, to see her fluster, to watch her checks redden in childish embarrassment.

"I'm not going to climb up there."

"I wasn't even going to ask you to do so."

She narrowed her eyes.

"Now; be a good girl and wait here for me. I'll unlock the door from inside."

As he made his way to one of the walls he couldn't suppress his simper. Clearly she wasn't happy with his attitude but besides crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance she did nothing to stop him. Federico reached for the lozenge in the wall and pulled himself up, starting his escalade.

He wanted to bring her to the upper levels of the Campanile right above the bells. The place was barely if never visited and since he had discovered it, he had used that attic to disappear from the world below. With time he had cleaned it and brought sheets and duvets for occasional naps and even books to read. Thinking of it some of his father's books were still up there. He liked his hiding place and Shiva was going to like it too; calm, tranquil, away from the hustle of people.

He was almost there. He stretched his arm after the edge of the balcony but when he looked up instead of the red marble he found an opened hand waiting for him to take. His eyes skipped forward to meet a grinning Shiva, elbow rested on the edge of the balcony, tresses falling around her face.

Overcoming his temporary shock he grabbed her hand.

"How did you get inside?"

She helped him over the handrail.

"Through the main door."

He glared at her obvious but happy voice. He knew that she was simply expecting him to ask more. It was so easy to read her. She was like a child waiting to be praised.

"I don't believe it was opened."

"Of course not. All I had to do was to … tickle the lock a little."

The girl shoved her face right under his as he leaned on the edge to rest. Instead of reacting to her amusement he threw a look down over his shoulder.

"And you still let me do all the effort of climbing up here."

"I just… didn't want to spoil your moment of manly outburst."

He turned his head back to catch her eyes. The chills of the night calmed his heated and almost sweaty temples.

His head tilted to one side and he gripped her middle, turning her around so that she would be trapped between him and the marble wall.

All he wanted to do at that exact moment was to catch her lips. He searched for permission in her eyes and slowly started to lessen the space between them.

"I" his eyes roamed on her lips "want…" After every word he would pause almost gasping for air under the pressure of their intimacy. "..to…make…you…" his mouth gently curled upwards. "mine." But everything went terribly wrong when she violently turned her head away form his kiss.

Federico frown. She wasn't looking at him. Had something gone wrong?

"Why?"

He stared in confusion.

"Why what?"

That was the moment when she finally looked back.

"Why chasing me so stubbornly? Why following me? Why so persistent? It's as if the faster I run more obstinately you pull. What could you possible want from me that you have to make your path right into my life?"

He relaxed. Whatever he had feared he realized he had absolutely no reason; in fact he couldn't be happier: she had finally stopped running. He instantly understood why she had come to Florence. She was in search for answers, for meanings… she was trying to chase away the doubts.

And so, he simply smiled.

"You. From your life you is all I want."

He saw her tense. His hands rested on her shoulders and he brought his face closer to hers, so close that their forehead were touching.

"Think of all the things we could do! It's not a whim. You can't possible be a whim. You and me; we could never get bored one of another."

"What…what makes you sure that I want someone to share a life with?"

"You do. You feel so alone Shiva. And if you think you don't I'll make you feel alone; I'll make you feel so terrifyingly alone that you will run straight to me."

His voice was soft and caring but his eyes were strong-willed, dominant and almost cruel. Federico wasn't going to lie; he knew himself too well. As devoted and protective as he was towards what it was part of his life he knew he was a ruthless man, and his determination and persistence could reach the crown of cruelty, sacrificing an entire world if necessary for what was personal to him.

She brought her right hand to his chin to make him look at her. He didn't realize that he had lowered his head. Federico cupped her hand and taking it away he gazed at her palm. He caressed the little black dot under the junction of her middle finger and her forefinger. A sensation of tranquility wrapped around him. It was because of the place; it was because of the clear night, it was because Shiva was here. And not just… the thief, the fox that he has always saw in her; the person, the soul. She was here because this was where she wanted to be. It made him happy to know that he was almost to the end of the race.

"Shiva…can I kiss your mole?"

She shifted next to him and looked at their hands then into his eyes.

"Which one?"

His smile grew and he eyed her and her lips.

"All of them."

Her eyes betrayed her contemplation but somewhere in between the thoughts her eyelids fell in a mysterious gesture. There was something fascinating about the sudden sense of control she was expressing and when she repeated after him her answer was wrapped in a nuance of confirmation and demand.

"All of them."

He refused to look away from her eyes as he brought her hand to his mouth and with her fingers tickling his cheek he places a sealing kiss on her palm. Soon his lips started to trace up on the phalanges of her fingers.

"How many?" he resumed his question to two whispered words. Instead of voicing an answer she took his hand in hers and folded one finger down.

Federico chortled and taking away the remaining space between them he smiled wildly at the quest he had submitted himself to. The kiss at the corner of her lips had been gentle and carrying. He waited for a reaction but when there was nothing his lips skipped entirely over hers. He took in the taste of her mouth and the smell of her skin while he pushed further, guiding the position of her body. When their lips parted her eyelids looked heavy and under him he felt her chest breathing hard.

His eyes lowered and his hand crossed the skin of her neck. Federico watched as his hand traveled down with enough pressure to see the white trace his fingers were leaving behind for the split to the second. He stopped above the frills of her gown and pushing them away he revealed more skin, and in the inner corner of her left breast his third stop. For a moment he simply caressed the mole before bending slowly above her chest. He wet her skin with the tip of his tongue. She shivered in anticipation. One of his hands circled her middle, locking her body whilst the other found its way around the small round breast, fondling its form through the fabric, tapping the nipple in its way. He heard her exhale.

Uncontrollably so did he when he brought his face up. He looked at her for guidance. Their game had long stopped being just a simple game, the air around them weighted with sexuality and craving. Her dilated pupils made his body react. Her hands searched for his and leaded them down her middle and hips. It was in her eyes the demand which he followed and slowly, as his hands continued to run down her legs so did his body kneel in front of her.

Her face was of a carved statue but her chest was rising and falling each second more rapidly as he slipped his hands under her gown and begun to trace their way back, bringing the folds of the dress up with them. He stopped when he passed her knees. It was then when his heart started to beat faster and harder against his chest in poisoning expectation.

"Higher" his hands jumped further even before her deep voice had the chance to materialize that single word.

He was breathing hard and like a child he licked his lips in unbearable anticipation. Her long legs revealed themselves as he ran his hands up her thighs and higher. Her skin was as white as a marble in that dark hour. And there, above her left inner thigh the black spot was barely visible. Federico smiled victoriously while he slowly brought his face closer. Before he had the time to do anything at all her body tensed. She had gripped the edge of the balcony with her hand. Instead of taking away her torment he parted his lips and let his hot breath tickle her sensible skin. The tall body shivered for a moment and he placed his kiss hardly against the tight space. When he brought his trail of kisses to the place between her legs he had to grip her thighs to make her stay still. He had been gentle to every spot of her body but – no more. The image of the circus beast tamer blurred its way into his mind. The hunter had spent years of tricks and patience to tame the wild fox; ceasing after it, running, laying traps, leaving food, watching from the distance, or pretending to sleep, letting it get away only to have it come back. After all that time, on that chilly night the hunter had extended his sugar filled hand and the fox had approached, crawling to the ground, smelling it, doubting it but in the end eating from his palm. The fox was tamed.

A sound of pain escaped her lips as he sank his teeth into her skin. Her hands hit hard against his shoulders trying to keep him away but his grip on her was stronger, his fingers pressed on her legs as his lips fought for the conquest. Her body started to twist uncontrollably under the conduct of his tongue. When there was no strength in her arms, when she was almost bending over him and heavy breathings were voiced through her mouth he lessened the fury that was coming from inside him and focused on the sound of her pleasure. Shiva's body straightened in a lethargic movement and she leaned backwards on the balcony, sweet sounds escaping her lips, controlled only by her lover. Her head fell backwards. She sluggishly opened her eyes and got lost in the stars of that darkly inked sky.

A lewd smile lengthened across her face.

"I think I can see the _Stella del mattino _(Morningstar)".

Federico stopped. He pulled away from under her dress and simply stared at her in a mixture of disbelieve and outrage. His eyebrows joined in a look of appall and discouragement.

"Is _that_ really what crosses your mind at a moment like this?"

She lowered her head and his breath stopped at the feelings her face were revealing; there was her content and warm smile, the depth of her gaze; an obscenely mature and wise expression trapped in the young age that both of them still possessed.

The green veiled muse dropped along the wall into his lap, finding her place there. Her hands passed through his hair and started to play with it at the back of his head.

"There was an old saying that the Morningstar is jealous on those lovers who dare to express their feelings right under his attentive watch."

He furrowed his eyebrows and grinned in confusion at the beauty of her, so unnatural now into his eyes, torn as such from the material world.

Her hands cupped his face with a tender gesture and her eyes once again holders of smoldering desire searched for his.

The whisper, even if it didn't leave the room felt like it had reached every corner of the world.

"Make love to me."

In that silence he didn't look away from her eyes for the longest time. Almost unnoticed and out of their own will his hands grasped her middle and he got on his feet, carrying her to a corner of the floor covered in red and dark fabrics where he carefully laid her. Slowly he covered her body with his, sustaining his weight on an elbow while his other hand pulled the green ribbon of her gown.

"I'm leaving Florence in the morning."

He stopped. He wanted to do exactly as he wished: to look up at her, look surprised and disappointed and ask her to stay. Instead his hand unfastened the ribbon and pulled it away.

"Why?"

"I have to catch the ship to Patras. I decided to go to Greece."

At that he stopped again but for entire different reasons. He looked at her.

"No. What I meant was why did you tell me? When you are going to leave…where are you going to leave…you always disappear. So what changed now?" His voice was serious and so were his eyes. "Why tell me now? What made you tell me?"

Her eyes were calm and almost spoke for themselves. He knew. He had the answer but he wanted to hear her.

The girl under him smiled.

"Because I want to give it a try and trust you. Because I want to have a place where to come back to…someone to come back to… a shelter… a home."

Her worlds painted a smile on his face.

"Me."

Slowly his head fell forwards.

The distant sound of fireworks replaced the silence. Voices and laughs from the _piazza _echoed up to the attic until they vanished back into the night.

Their lips locked hungrily and their hands fought the fabrics away.

.

_The planks creaked under the metallic steps._

.

Federico discarded the ribbon from her hair, letting the tresses free over the naked porcelain shoulders.

Their heated bodies struggled against each other and air got stuck in his throat, harder and harder to breath.

.

_The chain fell, hitting against the wooden mechanism._

.

When he opened his eyes, it was only the morning sun that was caressing his skin. Federico grabbed his forgotten clothes and started to dress, his moves echoing in the emptiness of the room. Before leaving he bent over the still warm sheets and grabbed the brooch she had left behind. It was his. Until his death it was his.

He didn't pin the golden fox back to his chest.

.

.

_There was no ground under his feet and no world around him._

.

The door of his house opened, strangely without making any sound. There was no sound. His heart started to panic. Even so he could hear its beats or the sound of his steps. He advanced inside the house, the walls and the table, everything blurred.

When he looked up, seated on the last set of stairs, his little brother was eyeing him with a strange look. He seemed tired…_Had he spent his entire night there waiting for him? _His eyes narrowed almost in anger and he jumped on his feet. He suddenly yelled something. What was it? He couldn't hear… What was that he was saying to him? Why couldn't he remember?

Something was wrong. He looked away from Ezio and into the mirror. The brooch fell from his hand. There were tears in his eyes. Why? This is not how he remembered; he did not cry in his memory. He remembered pitying Ezio for whatever he had said; he remembered telling him to grow up. Why was he crying?

_._

_He fought for his breath. _

No. _Darkness. _

_._

_Her long fingers tickled his palm and locked with his. _

.

.

No!

_Her hair split like the rays of the sun on the dark sheets…_

… _it smelled of lavender. _

.

People were hooting.

.

..

_ ...The smile and her rosy lips._

.

His legs kicked the air.

..

_Her small round breasts_

_ ...Her hypnotizing citrine eyes…_

**no…**

_long lashes,_

..._her touch…_

.

**No**..._come back_… **come back with my life**… don't take it with you. _let me go_…forgive me…

... . .. _**...don't forget me…**_

.

.

.

.

**.**

The crowd was swallowed in mortuary silence as the three bodies fell.

"_Faaaatheer...!"_


End file.
